Plum Sauce
by Coopereid
Summary: After hearing the nickname several times, Derek finally decides to try 'plum sauce' on Spencer after the events in the episode "I Love You, Tommy Brown". How does it turn out? One-shot.


**Author's Note:** As always, I own nothing!

* * *

Derek had to admit, 'plum sauce' was by far the weirdest pet name he had ever heard. Obviously it worked for Kevin and Garcia, because she never seemed disgusted by it, and was more amused than anything. What he couldn't understand was the appeal of said name. It wasn't cute, nor was it flattering. He didn't know what a plum sauce was, but he definitely knew it wasn't something worthy of calling someone you love by that name. After the case with Margaret Hollman and the teacher-student relationship, he couldn't wait to get his mind off of everything and get back to the apartment with Spencer. Unfortunately, going out to breakfast with the team, Spencer was spurting out facts in his usual manner.

He put some grape jelly on his toast, spreading it. "You know, recently, there's been an increase in teacher-student relationships, to the point that some are calling it an epidemic, though there's really no proven facts behind it. There's no correlation between an increase in grades and the relationships, so there's nothing to show _why_ the relationships start."

Emily gaped at him. "Reid, I just asked you to pass the salt… but thank you?"

He sipped his coffee. "Right, sorry." He grabbed the salt shaker from beside him, setting it next to her hand. "But just as I told JJ earlier, because she was an attractive female, she got out of jail earlier. If she had been unattractive in any way, she might've been denied parole and she'd still be in jail."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "So if she was ugly or horribly disfigured, I could've actually slept last night, spent time with my son, and _not_ been curled up in a ball on a jet seat?"

"Precisely."

Rossi looked down at his phone. "Hotch says we don't have to go back in and he's giving us the rest of the day to catch up on sleep."

Derek leaned back, running a hand over his scalp. "Thank _God_."

"_Sleep_, Derek," Spencer repeated. "Sleep."

"So, is that code for you two," JJ started, smirking to herself, "or…"

"Yes, it is a code, actually. It's code for 'if Derek Morgan dares to wake me up after I've been up for 38 hours now, he is going to feel my wrath'," Spencer said matter-of-factly, putting some pepper on his scrambled eggs.

Rossi eyed Derek. "I wouldn't push his buttons if I were you."

"Having done it once before? Trust me, it's not going to happen."

"Damn right it's not," Spencer mumbled, before cutting into his eggs and eating.

"Good, he's eating. Let's start a conversation so it's not interrupted. How about those Redskins?" JJ asked, looking around at them. When Spencer went to open his mouth, she pointed a finger at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

"She's a mom, Reid," Emily started. "I wouldn't mess with her."

Defeated, he sat there quietly while they carried on a conversation about sports.

* * *

Once they got back to the apartment, Derek picked up Clooney from his neighbor, thanking her for taking him while they were gone on the case. Meanwhile, Spencer walked to their room, throwing down his satchel and go-bag, kicking off his shoes and climbing on the bed, still fully clothed. He was so exhausted, he didn't even care. He just wanted to get some sleep actually lying down instead of scrunched up on the couch. It could fit a normal sized person just fine, but for Spencer, it definitely wasn't comfortable. He relaxed, leaning against the pillows and staring at the ceiling before letting his eyes slip shut.

Derek walked into the apartment, setting Clooney down and letting him run around. He saw that Spencer wasn't in the living room watching TV, nor was he in the kitchen making a fresh pot of coffee, so he must've been getting some sleep. He walked in, taking off his shoes and lying down beside him. He decided he was finally going to find out what a normal reaction to that nickname would be.

"How are you doing, plum sauce?" he asked, running a hand over the side of Spencer's face.

At first, Spencer raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out what Derek had just said. When he finally realized, he opened one eye, glaring at him. "…What did you just call me?"

"Plum sauce," he repeated, pushing the hair out of his face.

Spencer woke right up, propping himself up on his elbows. "Of all the names in the world, did you really just refer to me as a Chinese sweet and sour condiment?"

"Oh, so that's what it is?"

Spencer looked at him incredulously. "You called me something and didn't even know what it _meant_?"

"I heard Kevin Lynch call Garcia that, and she didn't seem to mind-" he said, defending himself.

"Because Garcia's quirky and she likes that sort of ridiculousness. Why in the _world_ would you think calling me a condiment was a good idea?"

He shrugged slightly. "I figured you could use a new pet name."

"So, you went from kid to genius to Pretty Boy to Einstein… to _plum sauce_?!"

Derek smirked. "Okay, maybe it wasn't successful."

"Talk about an understatement!" he scoffed. "Of all the names on this planet – the list is nearly endless – you called me a condiment that you put on egg rolls or roast duck."

_Okay, note to self. Plum sauce is a bust. For the love of God, do not call him plum sauce again if you know what's good for you and ever want to sleep with him again. _"What if I come up with a new name? Will you stop glaring at me?"

"We'll see," Spencer said, lying down and closing his eyes again.

* * *

Derek thought to himself. "What about sugar?"

Spencer shook his head furiously.

"Honey?"

Another headshake.

"Pumpkin?"

"For the love of God, Derek Morgan, if you name one more thing I can find in the kitchen, I am going to hit you."

"Angel?"

"Oh, so I've gone from a food product to _dead_?"

_Scratch that. Angel is slightly worse than plum sauce._ "Stud muffin?"

He saw Spencer blush, which was immediately followed by a headshake. "Definitely not."

He was slowly running out of ideas. "Spence?"

Without opening his eyes, he pointed a finger at him. "Considering JJ calls me that? No. I am not going to start thinking about Jennifer Jareau when I'm in this bed with you, thank you very much."

"I could always call you what you are in this bed, and say you're a lynx."

Spencer grabbed the pillow beside his head, hitting Derek with it.

"So that's a no. Then what _can_ I call you?"

Spencer yawned slightly. "Derek Morgan, shut up."

"Just give me something I can actually call you and I'll stop."

Spencer whimpered, rolling over and cupping a hand over Derek's mouth. "39 hours awake, Derek. Please shut up."

He pushed the hand off of his mouth, looking at him. "So should I just stick to the classics and call you Pretty Boy?"

Spencer nodded slightly, tilting his head up and kissing Derek softly. "That one always works." He bent his head down, resting it on Derek's chest. "Now, I am begging you, shut the _fuck_ up and let me get some sleep."

"I didn't think I'd ever hear you swear," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"You've never seen me awake for nearly forty hours after being referred to as a condiment either. Now shut up and cuddle."

Derek smirked to himself, looking down at Spencer, who fell asleep instantly against his chest. He definitely wasn't a plum sauce, or any other food item for that matter, and he'd never be an angel. He was, and forever would be, his Pretty Boy.


End file.
